Something Sinister
by xXVelvetSkiesXx
Summary: Something sinister has taken place at Hogwarts, and the staff is perplexed by the gruesome crime. Could Severus Snape be the key to solving the mystery? Please REVIEW if you read!


**_DISCLAIMER: _**I do not own any of these characters, only the plot. So there...

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_** Hello everyone, I'm back! (DUN DUN DAAAH!) The title is a bit dumb, I know, but the story isn't as bad. At least, that's my opinion... so who really cares anyway? Yeah... Anyway, PLEASE don't to forget to review when you're done reading! Enjoy!

After recieving an upleasant message, I would like to apologize if any of my stories have been repeatedly submitted. I've been trying to submit additional chapters to my stories, but whenever I add the new document to the story, it never shows up. Being the easily aggrivated and stuborn person that I am, I keep trying until I end up forcing myself away from the computer before I cause it serious and possibly fatal injury. So, if anyone has any suggestions as to what the (most likely simple) error that I am making, please email me. Once again, sorry for the inconvienece.

Something Sinister

"Oh my!" gasped Professor McGonagall as she joined the small gathering of her fellow colleagues that encircled the gruesome scene. In shock of the overwhelming prospect before her, she slowly approached Headmaster Dumbledore, who was twirling his long, white beard, deep in contemplation.

"Albus, good heavens…" McGonagall breathed, "What- whatever happened here?" Her wide opened eyes traced over the ghastly sight. How could it be possible for something so horrible to occur here at Hogwarts?

There was a moment's pause. "We can not say for certain yet, Minerva," he finally spoke. "We shall only know in time." Several professor's nodded, each so sorely focusing upon the enigma that had been placed into their mortal hands.

Professor Flitwick adjusted in his seat. "It all seems so… intricate… so delicately premeditated…" Again came the mindless nods of perplexity.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes as he had for the umpteenth time this Friday night. It was beyond his comprehension why he had been roused out of a rare deep sleep at all hours of the night for something as absolutely ridiculous as _this_.

"If I may, Headmaster," Snape drawled, breaking the terrible silence, "do you believe it is absolutely necessary to infatuate something so minor of impor-"

"Severus," burst out McGonagall in a fit of her infamous Scottish anger. Her thunderous tone was controlled, strict and harsh, yet a hint of deathly gravity tainted her voice. Her cheeks began to burn an aggravated rose, " A **_murder _**has just taken place. You can at least **_act as if_** you sympathize."

With another roll of his eyes, Snape sighed. It was moments like these that truly made him utterly despise his life. This, all of this, was completely ludicrous. He had no purpose what so ever of being here, trapped within this bloody madhouse.

The old grandfather clock in the dark corner of the room struck two AM. For two long, extensive hours they had been sitting there in silence, despite an occasional cough or sneeze from Madame Pomphrey, who had the displeasure of sitting next to incense-soaked Professor Trewlawney.

Seconds on the clock slowly grew longer, turning into what seemed like minutes, and soon, hours. Meanwhile, the tension all began to take it's toll upon an agitated Snape. As the ticking of the clock echoed through the dead quiet room, he finally decided he could bear it no longer. He had to confess: it was the only way to end this tortuous insanity.

Snape jolted upright and out of his seat. "Good Lord, people, it was Colonel Mustard in the kitchen with the wrench!"

Waves of sighs erupted from the disappointed staff. "Oh come on, Snape!" whined Professor Sprout. "You said you wouldn't tell anymore!"

Snape rose from his seat as Professor Flitwick collected the game pieces and placed the Clue game board back into it's cardboard box. "We almost had it," he muttered underneath his breath.

"I'm sure.." Snape sneered as he headed towards the staff room door to return to the dungeons. Yes, he understood that he had just ensured another juvenile label as "Severus Snape, the Smarty-Pants", but that didn't matter; he was a free man now. Free, that is, until next Friday night.

-Fin-

Thanks for reading! I would just like to say that I wrote this story around eleven at night with a 101 degrees temperature. To top it off, I was also in an abnormally good mood... :shudders: Needless to say, it was destined to be strange from the start. PLEASE don't forget to REVIEW!


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